CHAPTER IX.
THEY have gone, and I now fly with my new power of speed to join the glorious throngs flocking from all parts of the building on their homeward way.
What a scene and sound of mirth and gladness! Surely these happy beings have no sorrow greater than that occasioned by looking into the doings of their progenitors. No corroding, cowardly fear of death born of vicious doctrines. Both sexes, and all ages, are elastic with health of body and healthy hopes.
Some are earnestly discussing; some joyously greeting friends as they meet in the enormous hall, forming the junction of the many galleries; others brimming with fun over a recital of experiences or suggestions. Yet, notwithstanding this mixture of multitudinous sounds there is nothing jarring to the ear, or in any way offensive. It is a bright, perfect moving picture! The greater number, old and young, are singing "mid-day song." I have caught a stanza:—
Another morn
From us has flown,
But thought is born
And knowledge sown!
Here is another advancing—so sweetly!—from one of the other galleries:—
Facts evolving,
Darkness fleeing,
Mists dissolving,
Great truths seeing.
